The Siren (35 page)

Gully listened, wondering what he had to cry about. She squeezed his hand and concentrated on opening her eyes. She managed to get him into an intermittent fuzzy focus. He looked a mess –
perhaps he was in shock and just needed to talk. ‘No wonder you don’t drive,’ she said, making an effort.

‘Why?’

‘Well, you’re crap at it, aren’t you?’

‘Absolutely.’ He still sounded distracted. He let go of her hand and she heard him shouting something about an ambulance. She didn’t want him to go.

He stroked her cheek. ‘How are you feeling?’ He smiled at her.

‘I won’t smile back at you in case I dribble,’ she whispered.

Behind him she saw the vague shape of a torso appear, dressed in paramedic green.

‘You’ll be OK,’ Goodhew told her, and gave her hand a squeeze before finally letting it go.

FORTY-FIVE

The paramedics all wore the same closed expression, the one that allowed them to view the scene whilst avoiding any personal interaction that might scar them later. Kimberly
had concussion, blood loss and showed signs that she was under the influence of some kind of sedative. Meanwhile, Sue Gully had also suffered a head injury and they were struggling to keep her
conscious. They would talk to her, calling her by name, but all the time thinking of her in terms of vital signs and body trauma, concentrating on the medical know-how that would deliver her safely
from the scene of the accident to the handover at A and E.

Goodhew turned away and found himself face-to-face with DI Marks.

‘How are they?’ Marks asked.

Goodhew muttered a one-word reply, ‘Alive,’ and continued to walk away from the wreckage.

Marks followed him. ‘They were facing certain death.’

Goodhew stopped in his tracks. ‘I know, that’s the logical way to see it, but that doesn’t change the fact that their injuries were caused by me driving straight into
them.’

‘Not Stefan’s most likely though. Kincaide said he seemed totally unresponsive before impact. It’ll be interesting to see his postmortem results.’

Goodhew changed subjects. ‘Craig Tennison abducted all of them, he wanted it to look like Stefan had cracked and gone on a murderous death spree.’

‘And if that locomotive
had
hit them, it could have been a very different story.’

Marks didn’t need to elaborate: Goodhew was more than capable of picturing the carnage that would have resulted. He’d seen cars disappear under lorries, leaving nothing larger than a
bonnet badge to identify the vehicle’s make or model. He could still see the train bearing down on them, and now, in his mind’s eye, it sliced through the helpless car, devouring its
occupants. They remained mute, however, while his head filled with the scream of those futile brakes. Goodhew recognized it as a sound that would now stay with him for a lifetime.

‘Gully’s certain she saw Riley being put into the boot of a small red saloon. The rest of them were transferred into that Renault, which Craig Tennison then drove on to the track. I
guess he must have dumped the van then.’

Marks nodded. ‘I have the chopper searching for the van right now, within a two mile radius initially, then widening gradually.’

Goodhew frowned. ‘That’s over twelve square miles, but reduce the radius to a mile, and there’s only three and a half square miles to cover. We have the best odds of finding it
within that distance unless, of course, he’s still driving it.’

‘That would be too risky. He knows we’re looking for it, and anyway he had the option of this other car.’

Goodhew studied his boss for a moment, then looked away, his gaze falling on the spray of sparks sent flying by the cutting equipment, as the firemen fought to dismantle the Renault.

IV bags hung alongside, their diminishing fluids glinted in the watery sunshine. Every person in his field of vision was working with purpose; he could see the medics trying to keep Gully and
Kimberly stable while the fire crew worked towards releasing the two injured women and the body of Stefan Golinski. The scene was being recorded by police photographers, while other officers were
collecting evidence and further back was a camera crew belonging to a news syndicate. He scanned the scene again, in every case each person’s motivation was clear and drove each task they
undertook.

For the first time, Goodhew began seeing a more complete picture of Craig Tennison. Nick Lewton, Rachel Golinski and Jay Andrews had all fallen victim to the same signature attack. Anita McVey,
too, except that in her case he’d been too rushed or too distracted, and the fatal kick had been delivered inaccurately. None of these people had been strangers to him, but his method
required the use of force without hesitation. No doubt, also, Jay and Nick had been far from the first.

Tennison was smart never to have been caught. Brute force alone was rarely the only skill involved when such crimes had gone undetected for so long, and yet he still appeared to be working for
the Lewton family rather than breaking out on his own.

Goodhew began speaking before his thoughts had finished forming, but he felt sure they were making sense. ‘If Tennison wanted to kill Riley, he would have left him in the car with the
others. He’s ruthless enough to do it. So now he’s got a child on his hands, yet this isn’t a random little boy but one belonging to his employer’s family, so whatever he
stands to gain by this is personal.’

‘He’s taking a huge risk, though. If he’s caught with Riley, the game will be up.’

‘Here’s a better question, why put Riley in the boot? Even if he were strapped in a car seat in a state of distress, no one would have taken much notice of him because that photo
most people have seen is one of Jay Andrews as a toddler, not Riley himself.’

Marks eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you thinking?’

‘By hiding Riley in the boot, there’s no possibility whatsoever that we are likely to pinpoint where or when he was handed over.’

‘OK,’ Marks said slowly, ‘now explain a little more because, right now, I haven’t a clue what you’re getting at.’

Goodhew nodded in the direction of the level crossing, ‘Ten-nison’s plan was for them all to die – I guess to make it seem as though Stefan had committed suicide and decided on
taking Kimberly with him. Tennison would then be able to pretend he knew nothing, as long as he couldn’t be placed anywhere near the Transit or its occupants. He could say that Stefan handed
over Riley to him as the last decent act of a desperate man.’

‘For that to work, Tennison needed to know for sure that both Stefan Golinski and Kimberly Guyver were dead.’ Marks turned to survey a full 360-degree scan of the countryside.
‘To be convincing, he would have called us at the earliest opportunity. He couldn’t hang on to Riley a moment longer than necessary, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he was parked
somewhere nearby, watching for the collision. That means you scuppered his plan.’

‘And now he doesn’t know what to do with Riley?’ Goodhew felt suddenly restless and took a couple of involuntary steps in the direction of the nearest patrol car. ‘He
must know we’re on to him.’

‘And he’ll be panicking, but he doesn’t yet know whether Gully or Kimberly will be in a fit state to be interviewed. Maybe that gives us an opportunity.’

Goodhew bit his lip thoughtfully. ‘How up-to-date is the press?’

‘They simply know there was an incident at the level crossing, with one fatality.’

‘Why not announce that the others are seriously injured, and that the police are still waiting to interview them.’

Marks shook his head but didn’t actually refuse. ‘Or, better still, that there were no survivors.’

Goodhew was surprised to see that his boss was giving his idea serious consideration. This wasn’t the kind of misinformation that could be smudged or glossed over later.

Marks’ phone rang before he reached his final verdict. ‘DI Marks,’ he answered. ‘Who?’ then ‘Really?’

Goodhew watched Marks’ expression intently, wishing he could hear what the caller was saying, especially as whoever it was seemed to be speaking twenty words for each short phrase grunted
by Marks in response.

‘Where are they?’

Marks’ eyes met Goodhew’s, and his expression had brightened. ‘What about . . .?’ A half-smile flickered. ‘Good . . . Excellent.’

Goodhew dug his hands into his pockets and did his best not to fidget.

Marks snapped his phone shut. ‘Riley’s safe.’

FORTY-SIX

As far as police activity was concerned, Parkside Station was as quiet as it could be. Most spaces in the car park were empty and the corridors were deserted. An ambulance had
pulled into the closest available bay, its lights on and the doors open, but without a paramedic in sight.

Goodhew followed Marks to the farthest and most spacious of the interview rooms. It was kitted out with the usual Government-issue furniture but had also been equipped with a junior-sized table
with matching chairs, two beanbags and a box of random toddler toys.

DC Charles was waiting just inside the door and, aside from him, there were five people in the room. A man in his late forties, who Goodhew recognized as Dr Gregor, was kneeling in front of a
little boy who stood next to one of the children’s chairs. Behind him a female paramedic was sitting on the floor. The boy had been crying and looked up at Goodhew and Marks as they entered
the room. Then his face fell again.

Goodhew smiled, for beyond any shadow of a doubt this was Riley Guyver. Riley had only a vague physical likeness to his mother but his expression, as he glowered at the doctor, was totally
Kimberly’s.

Marks addressed Charles. ‘Is he all right?’

Charles nodded. ‘The doctor’s checking him over, but no sign of any problems for the moment.’

‘How about her?’ The second paramedic sat alongside Tamsin Lewton at the full-sized table, and the resemblance between her and Riley was startling. She took no notice of any of the
officers, but continued talking quietly to the paramedic, with her gaze firmly fixed on her little nephew.

‘Sir, I’m sorry if I’ve done the wrong thing, but I wasn’t quite sure how to handle this. I thought maybe they should be held separately, but I wanted to keep Riley as
calm as possible.’

Marks waved this concern aside. ‘Least of our worries. What can she tell us?’

‘Not much, I fear. Tennison borrowed her car earlier then returned it about an hour ago. Just after that she had a call from him, telling her to look in the boot. That’s when she
found Riley.’

‘Where is Tennison now?’

‘She says she doesn’t know, but I didn’t question her for long. I was more concerned with getting the little boy checked over.’

‘Do we have a Child Welfare officer on the way?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. Find out how long until he or she arrives, also get me the latest update on the mother’s condition. If she’s conscious, she should be told that her son is safe, but no
more than that. Oh, and is Miss Lewton a key holder for the Celeste?’

‘No. That’s in hand, though. I’m expecting a call back from one of the security staff at any minute.’

‘Well, let me know as soon as.’ Marks turned his attention to Goodhew. ‘I need to speak to Dr Gregor and while I’m doing that, I want you to start questioning Tamsin
Lewton. She can stay in here for now, but get shot of that ambulance crew.’

Tamsin wore jeans and a chunky sweater, and even in winter she should have found the room uncomfortably warm, but her shoulders were hunched as if freezing and, beneath her tan, the blood had
drained from her face.

While the paramedics were leaving, Goodhew visited the drinks machine and returned with two teas. He slid into the chair opposite her, and she reached for the plastic cup before he even had a
chance to set it down.

‘I can’t stop shivering.’

‘It’s shock.’

‘I know.’ She scowled at him. ‘Of course I know that, but it doesn’t make me any warmer, does it?’

‘That’s what the tea’s for.’

She blew steam from her cup and took a couple of sips. ‘Riley doesn’t even know who I am.’

‘He looks like you, though, doesn’t he?’

‘He looks like Nick. And Nick never even knew she was pregnant.’ She shivered. ‘I opened the boot and he was just lying there. What if I hadn’t checked? He could have
died in there, couldn’t he?’

‘Maybe.’

‘What was Craig trying to do? He must have flipped or something.’

‘How did he seem?’

‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head. ‘He posted the keys through the letterbox, but I heard them drop so I went to the door. He was already walking away, I called to him
and he spun round, seemed agitated, said nothing until he was almost on top of me. He came right up close,’ she raised the flat of her hand to her face, ‘uncomfortably close like he was
really angry. For a moment I felt threatened, but then he just thanked me for the use of the car, and he walked away.’

Tamsin stared beyond Goodhew, as though she was still watching Craig Tennison stride into the distance. She then swung her attention back to him, a small sad smile playing on her lips. ‘He
phoned a few minutes later and told me to look in the boot. I asked him why, but he just hung up.’

‘It’s vital we find him as quickly as possible.’

Marks was standing within earshot. He’d hovered in the same position for the last couple of minutes, facing Dr Gregor and Riley, but it was obvious that Goodhew’s boss was currently
tuned into Tamsin.

‘I don’t know where Craig went, I’m sorry. If I knew I’d say so, but I don’t.’ She ran her fingers through her hair, as if smoothing out a non-existent
tangle. ‘I don’t understand any of this, and I’ve known Craig since I was just a kid. All I can think is that he’s cracked up, and was getting his revenge on Stefan for Nick
and Rachel . . .’ Her voice trailed off.

Marks raised one eyebrow and gave Goodhew a small nod before turning his back on them. It meant an OK to follow the conversation wherever it led.

‘Tamsin,’ Goodhew lowered his voice, which alone was enough to focus her attention, ‘Craig Tennison is our main suspect for both those murders.’